Wednesday, June 21


rules is rules, buddy.
and on the solstice, (either one)
what is the rule about what we've got to do?
we've got to BURN.
it's mandatory we start a mutha'ucking trashcan fire,
from the depths of the recycling bin,
and with the intent to make a towering inferno at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
to start things off with all the magic and mastery we've come to expect
of an expert incendiary individual,
i stacked up six, ....that's right, count 'em-
one. two. three. four. five. SIX empty oatmeal containers,
each packed tightly with combustible cardstock and papers.
a whole bunch of corrugated matryoshka boxes to add as necessary.
every item was full of MORE stuff to burn.
because fire, dudes.
check it:

it's something i feel deep in my bones an' marrow an' that.
as if my white blood cells were white hot sparks,
and they were reinvigorated by the lengthy daylight
that stretched across the hours leading up to the expulsion
of all stockpiled potential energy into light and heat and smoke.
neighbors, it's a thing-
on the solstice, we burn away everything.
i think i was also likely doing myself a mischief.
i mean it.
that fire was flippin' HOT,
and there was absolutely some sort of contraband contained therein.
plastics, perhaps,
or some other bits of acrid and acrimonious additives.....
and the embers were skyrocketing around in a cyclone of caustic smoke,
trying to ignite the night with specks and sparkles of primal druid ferocity.
at one point, i might've miscalculated something,
because the fire was going sideways in high-def 360° surround assault mode.

i mean, i like getting lit on fire about as much as the next guy,
but that was alarming.
i doubt i'll have to mow the lawn anytime soon....
because i burnt a four foot circle down to a very well-manicured length.
fire as yard work?
i like it.
crabtree and i spanned a whole lot of time and space together today.
we trekked over the rivers, through the woods, up (and down) the mountainside,
and then we drove, and drove, to, fro, there, and back again,
running errands and making moves and hanging tough as a triumphant twosome...
and then there was dinner,
followed by a miles-lonng journey through the village of north conway.
i swear crabby hides a secret stash of hot pee to delineate our route.
never have i ever seen that much urine in my whole life,
and one time a rhino peed on a person next to me, from a dozen or more feet away.
real talk.
it was good to be productive in some way.
i've got other demands on my time,
and a sequence of linear event which will surely dictate the manner
in which i handle myself for the summertime.
it's here,
and there's lots to do.
in the meantime,
i smell of smoke,
and i feel alive.
a better fate than death awaits us anywhere,
and i spent the day putting that adage to the test.
it seems there just might be somethin' to it;
never quiet, never soft.....

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